The Cost of Waiting - Letter #6

The body knows. The mind overrides…and the delay starts sounding like wisdom.

I usually feel it before I understand it. A drop in my belly. A low hum of inner turbulence that begins the second I think, I still need to call so-and-so and have that conversation I’ve been avoiding.

And what do I do with that feeling? I move the call down the list.

Tomorrow. Next week. After I finish this errand. It’s too late in the day now….I’ll do it first thing in the morning. I tell myself I am being strategic about timing, when really, I am trying to avoid the exposure of doing the thing.

The feeling rarely leaves on its own. It sits in my gut during the day and follows me into bed at night. I think about the call while brushing my teeth. I rehearse the conversation in the shower. I imagine every possible reaction, including several that probably only exist in the private theater of my mind.

And the only thing that has ever truly removed the feeling, not soothed it, not distracted me from it, but removed it, is making the phone call. Every. Single. Time.

Not once has waiting another week accomplished what a five-minute conversation could have cleared in an afternoon. I make the call, survive it, and suddenly the turbulence is gone. I go on with my day without giving it another thought.

Something I chose to carry for days, sometimes weeks, disappears because I finally did the doing.

I have done this with phone calls. I have done it with books I have written that still have not taken their next step. I have done it with songs that sat hidden for years before anyone even knew I was a singer-songwriter.

Something in me already knew it was time. The not-doing just felt more comfortable. Safer. Easier to justify. But the years passed anyway.

That is the part we conveniently forget while we are waiting. Time does not pause while we work up the nerve. It keeps moving. The only thing waiting ever protected me from was the possibility of finding out what might have happened if I had begun sooner.

So let me say the uncomfortable part plainly. Imperfect action is better than no action at all.

…and let me add that inaction is a choice too, and it comes at a price. It costs time, energy, opportunity, and self-trust, something most people do not even realize they are slowly losing. Every time you know what you need to do and refuse to do it, you send yourself a quiet message. You allow fear to make the decision. Again.

That may sound harsh but think about it. You hear the inner knowing. You feel the nudge. You promise yourself you will act, and then you repeatedly abandon your own instruction.

Do that often enough and the backseat driver does not even need to argue anymore. You have already handed her the wheel.

The personal development teacher Bob Proctor called this the Knowing-Doing Gap. It is the space between knowing exactly what you need to do and still not doing it.

Most people live inside that gap, not because they are unintelligent, lazy, or lacking desire, but because knowing and doing ask completely different things of us. Knowing is comfortable. Doing is exposed.

So we dress the gap up. We call it preparation. Research. Good timing. High standards. Being realistic.  You get my drift…

We tell ourselves we will launch the website when the photos are better. Start the podcast when we stop hating the sound of our own voice. Share the work when it is more polished. Apply for the opportunity when we feel more qualified. Begin the project when life settles down. Or the biggest one of all, I just need to learn a little more. One more class. One more certification. One more book. One more person to tell us we are ready.

But there comes a point when learning more is no longer preparation. It is hiding with a notebook. You do not become ready and then begin. Beginning is often the thing that makes you ready.

And preparation is just one costume in the closet. Perfectionism wears an even better one. It's procrastination wearing a more respectable outfit. It feels responsible. It sounds like standards.  But underneath it is usually fear. Fear of rejection. Fear of being ignored. Fear of people whispering. Fear of putting your work into the world and discovering it does not land the way you hoped.

Or perhaps the more uncomfortable fear, that it will. Because failure is not the only thing that disrupts life. Success does too. Success asks you to expand. It makes you visible. It requires you to keep showing up after the first brave moment has passed.

Waiting protects us from both possibilities. It also guarantees that neither one can find us.

Here is what makes the Knowing-Doing Gap so sneaky. Most people believe the answer is figuring out the entire how before they begin. Once I understand exactly how this will work, then I will start. But you will never know the entire how. Not in advance.

Martin Luther King Jr. famously spoke about taking the first step without seeing the whole staircase. That idea has been repeated so often that it can start to sound like a pretty quote for a coffee mug, but it contains a truth we keep trying to negotiate around.

The second step is often invisible until you take the first one. The email you send leads to a conversation. The conversation introduces a person. The person mentions an opportunity. The opportunity changes the direction of the entire road. None of that can happen while the email is sitting in your drafts.

The path does not reveal itself all at once. It reveals itself in response to movement.

I wrote about this in my song "I'd Do It All Again," about a time when I was navigating through loss, kept on going, stayed in belief, and then the universe met me halfway...

"The road rolled up to meet me, and just around the bend, my angels waiting with a new story to pen."

That does not mean every move worked. It does not mean every door opened or every idea became what I hoped it would become. It means movement gave life something to respond to…and it did.

Many personal development models took this idea a step further with the principle of Be, Do, Have. Most of us have been conditioned to approach life in the opposite order. We are human BE-ings and not human DO-ings, yet we always ask, "What do I need to do" instead of "Who do I need to be?" We think we must do, have, so we can be. Do enough to have the result, and then we will finally be happy.

What do I need to do to build the audience, and then I will believe I am worth listening to.

What do I need to do, so I become successful, and then I will carry myself with confidence.

What do I need to do, so someone chooses to be with me, and then I will believe I am worthy.

That order is all wrong. Success comes from a different sequence. Who do you need to be? Be the version of yourself who already trusts her voice. Then do what that version of you would do. The results grow from there.

You do not wait until you have an audience to show up like someone worth following. You show up like someone worth following, and you give the audience a chance to find you.

You do not wait until you feel confident to act confidently. You act from the identity of the person you are becoming, and confidence grows from evidence.

You kept the promise. You made the call. You published the imperfect post. You submitted the application. You let the song leave the closet.

What would that version of you do today? Not someday. Not when it's ready. Today.

Because that version of you isn't sitting with the belly drop tonight. She already made the call.

'Til next time...

Your Fellow Traveler,

Patty

PS: Fasten your seatbelt and turn it up. My song Sacred Traveler is the soundtrack to The Override Letters, and inside The Listening Room, you'll find playlists for each part of the journey.

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A gentle note for the road: The Override Letters are created for reflection, self-awareness, clarity, and reconnecting with yourself. This space is not meant to replace therapy, medical care, crisis support, or professional guidance, and is not intended as a resource for addiction, abuse, crisis intervention, or big "T" trauma work. Please honor your nervous system and seek the right support when deeper care is needed.